To Know, To Will, To Dare, and To Keep Silent
by Lacy.Bennett
Summary: They share secrets; one secret in particular that, at the moment, they hate and despise, especially since the accident.  Inspired by Charmed.


I don't own Glee, Charmed, or either of their characters.

A/N: This is a glee fic that was spurred by my aversion to my Shakespeare-related thesis and finding my old boxed sets of Charmed.

* * *

><p>"What do you think they're building?" Brittany peeks out of the curtain to see the construction going on across the street. "Do you think I should offer them something to drink or a maybe some little sandwiches?"<p>

"Rachel hasn't come out of her room in three days," Santana worries her bottom lip. "I haven't seen her once. I only know she's still alive because the food I leave outside her bedroom door keeps disappearing."

"That might be from Lord Tubbington," Brittany admits sheepishly. "Where is he anyway?"

The two women instantly grow quiet when the stairs creak as Rachel's trudges down them.

"I see we've stopped orbing everywhere," Santana crosses her arms.

"I need coffee," Rachel pulls her robe tighter around her and leads her housemates to the kitchen. "What in the world is that noise?"

"Across the street," Brittany answers simply and pours Rachel's coffee. "I've seen a few yummy men with hammers over there."

"Have you decided to come out of hiding?" Santana questions as she sips from her own coffee mug. "Because you aren't the only one hurting, Rachel. Ever since what happened you've been stuck away in your room."

"Santana," Brittany warns quietly.

"No," Santana shakes her head. "Rachel, you have to pull yourself out of this funk because I can't handle this anymore. Brittany and I haven't even been able to_ grieve_ because we've been worrying about you all week."

"It just happened," Rachel snaps. "Tina and Mike_ just_ died. And it was my fault. I can't just get over that, Santana. None of us can."

"It wasn't your fault," Brittany whispers. "It was _theirs_." All three woman glance toward the ceiling. "And they're going to pay. For Tina and Mike and everything else that has happened."

Rachel swirls the spoon around in her mug, "I don't know how to wake up and just move on in a world where Tina and Mike don't exist anymore. They were our family and now they're just gone."

"None of us know what to do," Santana grips both Rachel's and Brittany's hand. "But we can't do nothing. We can't, we _won't, _forget about Tina and Mike. We'll stand and fight and face whatever comes because that's what we've always done. We did it before we met them and we'll do it now. We'll do it for them."

All three woman jump slightly when the doorbell rings, but their hands stay clasp together.

"Do you think it's one of them?" Brittany asks. "They haven't attacked since Tina and Mike died."

"Demons don't use the doorbell," Rachel says softly and drops her hands to her sides before moving towards the front door. "I'll answer it."

Santana and Brittany share a look before scurrying after their housemate to see her opening the door to two very admittedly handsome men.

"Can we help you?" Rachel asks after Brittany and Santana take their place supportively behind her.

"We're doing some work across the street," The blonde one points in that direction.

"Could we possibly use your restroom?" It's the dark-haired one speaking this time and something in his voice intrigues Rachel.

* * *

><p>Puck hates his job sometimes. Don't get him wrong, he loves being a whitelighter, but he's never been assigned to a case so complex before. Not only does he have to worry about protecting and guiding three of the most powerful and stubborn witches, but he has to break in the new guy while doing it.<p>

Sam's okay and he seems to be a good whitelighter so far, but the guy is clumsy as hell and can't seem to grasp the act of orbing. Puck has only been training Sam for a week and they've already been assigned to _them_.

"This is so cool," Sam whispers while he and Puck make their way across the street and up to_ that_ house. "Do you think they'll know who we are?"

"Just knock on the damn door," Puck says and Sam obliges.

Puck isn't surprised that the three women on the other side of the door look a little suspicious. So it's a little odd when the brown-eyed one he assumes is Rachel invites them both in so easily.

He leaves Sam with the witches while he searches through their bathroom. He doesn't really find anything and, so far, everything in this house looks normal. He assumes they hide all of their things in the attic. At least, that's what Rachel's dad did when he was still alive.

When he leaves the bathroom, it's a little too quiet down the hall so he's kind of expecting it when he finds Sam knocked out on the couch.

"What did you do to him," Puck questions.

"Relax," Santana rolls her eyes. "It's just a sleep potion. He'll wake up in a few seconds."

"What is wrong with you?" Puck demands and focuses his attention on Rachel. It's obvious she's in charge with the way Santana and Brittany stand defensively at her side.

"We don't want you here," Rachel crosses her arms. "We don't need you here. So you can whitelight your asses back up _there _and tell _them_ we're done. We aren't doing anything else until they bring back Tina and Mike."

"You know they can't do that," Puck helps Sam into a sitting position when the young whitelighter groans and asks what happened as his eyes flutter open.

"They took them away," Brittany matches Rachel's stance. "They can give them back. They have to."

Puck ignores the hurt etched on Rachel's face and the tears threatening to spill over in Brittany's eyes, "It doesn't work that way and you all know it."

"They were our family," Santana growls.

"We're just here to help," Sam tells the women. "You need a whitelighter for protection.

"We had a whitelighter," Rachel says softly. "We had two, and then they took them away. With everything we have done, they couldn't even let us have that. We have gone through more pain in our lives than either of you ever have. We have given up almost everything, but they were our _family_."

"You have a responsibility to use your craft," Puck tries to reason with them. "You three were given a gift."

"What we have aren't gifts," Rachel counters. "You can return a gift. We don't want these responsibilities, we never have. Tell them, whoever the hell you work for up there, that we have been taking care of ourselves our whole lives. We don't need you two or any other whitelighters they send. We had Tina and Mike."

"The Elders, the ones you two look up to and control_ everything_," Santana shakes her head, "they took everything from us. They took Rachel's dads and my Nana and Brittany's Aunt. The Elders took everything and then they took more."

"We're just here to help," Sam repeats slowly.

"We're not leaving," Puck crosses his arms and doesn't have time to fully understand the reason behind Santana and Brittany's smirks before Rachel swipes her hand at them and he hears her yelling the words "front porch!" and he's falling on his ass next to Sam in front of the witches shared house. "Well," Puck frowns, "fuck."

* * *

><p>"Do you think anyone saw that?" Brittany asks while peeking through the window to make sure the whitelighters are really gone. "Maybe you should have orbed them to the back porch."<p>

"No one noticed," Santana confirms while sighing. "But I have a hunch those two will be back. Whitelighters are nothing if not persistent."

"Come on, girls," Rachel frowns, "we need to get back to the book and find that power stripping spell."

* * *

><p>Puck gave Sam the day off. The blonde is supposed to be practicing his orbing and Puck really just needs him out of the way. It's going to be hard enough to get on the witches good sides without Sam getting into some sort of trouble.<p>

Puck wrinkles his nose and tosses the spoiled fruit back onto the man's cart before moving on. He's been following the petite witch all morning and he's pretty sure she has no idea he's been watching her. He's got to say he's a little disappointed; one would think she'd be a little more observant since she's basically had the source of all evil wanting her dead since she came into her powers that night with Santana and Brittany when they all went to college at NYU.

He tries to stay inconspicuous while she's smiling at some man and sifting through some apples a few yards away from him. Apparently, she needs some fruit for this new pastry she wants to try to make for the bakery she owns with Brittany, Santana, and, until recently, Tina.

Puck's almost positive he's been caught when Rachel glances his way, but then she's paying the man at the farmer's market and struggling with her heavy bags while moving towards her next destination. He trails her for a few blocks before she turns into an alley and he slows, wondering what the hell the witch could be up to. He's really not in the mood for games and curses himself when he finds himself heading down the alley behind her.

"Witch?" He asks when he finds nothing but the bags she was just holding leaning against the graffiti covered brick wall. "Rachel?"

"Why are you following me?" Rachel demands as she orbs back into her spot in front of him.

He's not sure why she even asks the question because she doesn't give him a chance to reply before her fist is connecting with his jaw.

"What the actual _fuck_!" He stumbles back a few steps and narrows his eyes at her.

"You've been stalking me all morning," she quickly grabs her bags and glares at him. "Now if you kindly excuse me, I have to get home and start working on this recipe."

He's still nursing his jaw and his slightly bruised ego as she starts to orb out, but he catches her quick enough and latches onto her shoulder. She's still screaming and struggling against him as they appear in her kitchen.

"Let go of me, Neanderthal," she rips her body from his grasp and her bags fall to the floor, apples and lemons scattering over the floor. "What is your problem?"

"Relax," Puck rolls his eyes at her dramatics and stoops to help her clean up the fruit. "Like Sam said the other day, we're just here to help."

"That's his name?" she questions and sets the apples on the counter. "The man with you the other day?"

"Yea," he nods and follows her suit, lining the fruit up with hers while avoiding her gaze.

"Well I feel sorry for him," the soft look that just a few seconds ago graced her features has disappeared and is now replaced with a look of discontent and annoyance. "I'm actually a little offended they sent us a whitelighter so unqualified. He didn't even _try _to orb out of the way before Santana hit him with that potion."

"He's new," he defends the whitelighter halfheartedly. "I'm training him. He's still kind of working on the whole whitelighter thing."

"Oh," Rachel turns her back to him and pretends to busy herself with alphabetizing the herbs and spices. "And you? How experienced are you?"

"Let's just say I've been around for awhile," Puck dares to let his eyes moves towards her, watching the way she floats around the kitchen with ease.

She looks at him over her shoulder and he holds her gaze for a few seconds before she returns to her made-up task.

"Where are the other two witches?" he asks.

"We have names, you know?" She sighs. "Brittany is the blonde and Santana is the other. They're both at the bakery. We had a few people call in sick at the last second because it's Friday."

"I'm Puck, Noah Puckerman," He says. "And your name?"

Rachel offers him a smirk over her shoulder, "You aren't that unprepared. The Elders wouldn't have sent you without at least our names. Besides, we're kind of famous up there."

"Humor me," he returns her smirk.

"It's Rachel," she turns to face him fully. "My name is Rachel."


End file.
